Nothing is true, Everything is permitted
by Davoid123
Summary: A story of an assassin after the time of Altair. also, how the Assassins branched out in the world after the failure in Constantinople (tried my best to be historically accurate, but will probably have huge historical goofs)
1. Chapter 1

Everything is permitted, Nothing is true

Chapter one

 **[Holy lands, Masyaf, About 1196 AD]**

" _Al-Saregh!_ Stop!" a guard said as he ran after me, trying once again to catch me.

' _Al-Saregh_ ' was my only known name. the one people called me with. After all, the best I'd ever experienced as a conversation was when guards called after me to stop. not that I would've.

I was a thief. Only because necessity demanded it. i stole only the bread I needed, the coin I required for a living and some more. The fact that _hadd_ for thievery was an ARM didn't tempt me to slow down.

I wasn't the best thief, but I was infamous for _never_ getting caught. Some of my fences, the black market vendors in the older parts of the town who normally bought the odds and ends I 'found', used to call me Masyaf's Master thief.

I ran as isma'il , the captain of the guards, yelled after me. despite my young age of sixteen, I knew the city better than _anyone_ , and isma'il was not as familiar with the town as I was. I yelled " _Asef_ " as I ran past a young lady talking with a young man in grey robes. Then I quickly changed course. The few dropped crates at my wake would be a problem for my pursuers.

I saw a stack of hay as I was running, and I quickly jumped inside, then waited.

I wasn't disappointed, the heavy footsteps of the three guards got louder, then they stopped near the stack I was hiding in. as the cursed under their breath, I looked up. On a building in front of the hay stack, an exceptionally tall building might I add, a wooden board could be seen,

The lieutenant said "no signs of the thief isma'il. What is your command?" the guard captain replied in his gruff voice "we leave. Our real job is to protect the town. _Al-saregh_ will show himself again. maybe we'll catch him next time."

I waited a few minutes more, then I sensed them leave. I've always been able to do that. Sense if danger was nearby. I could almost see the guards leave with my eyes closed. That sixth sense had never let me down. I wan't betting on it starting now.

I left the haystack, which was too clean for a normally placed food for a horse. I gave it no thought, and picked up the fresh piece of bread I'd hide on the ground near the stack. After clearing the dust off the bread, I began eating it.

Half an hour later, I was once again roaming the roads, looking for a target.

I finally reached the town square. A few vendors were advertising their goods, two men talking about something, a few guards chatting with the townsfolk. That was what I loved about masyaf: most people, including the guards, were friendly. Something about the castle on the maintain near the city. The city hadn't been in the danger ever since the invasion of the knight Templars about 50 years ago. Not even the holy wars had touched the town.

The town square was my favorite fishing area. Most wouldn't notice stuff getting lost, and few missed a few coins. I looked around and found a young man in a grey robe. The same one I'd almost ran into half an hour ago.

Target locked

The man started walking to an alley after thirty minutes of sitting in silence. I smiled as I tailed him. as soon as I was close enough, I snaked my hand into his pouch.

That was when I noticed something was wrong. He screamed of _danger_ , and if that wasn't enough, his pouch, aside of the few coins, was full of pointy objects. And I'm using the expression really loosely. The stash was full of daggers, picks and darts. The moment my hand left his pouch, the man turned, and In a very impressive show of speed, he slammed me to the wall. a dagger in his hands (I swear he pulled it out of thin air) that he put on my throat.

The man growled "so, this is the master thief of masyaf. Nothing but a mere…" his growl left, a look of shock and confusion replacing it, "a mere boy!"

His dagger left my throat and with a _snickt_ returned the sleeve of his left hand. He took a step back, and said "I don't understand. Why are you a boy?"

But he didn't wait for my reply, he said to himself "I can't leave you with the guards. A boy doesn't deserve getting his hands chopped off." Then said "but so much talent…"

He smiled, and turned to me "I have an offer for you"

That was when I recognized him. _altair ibn-al-ahd_ , ' _Al-muallim_ ' of the assassin's brotherhood. Why he was _here_ I'd never know, but I asked "what is it you ask of me?"

The man smiled "you have certain talents many don't. talents we, in the brotherhood, try to turn into skill. I give you a one time offer to join us. Join the brotherhood of assassins, and fight so that one day, no one needs to steal, to merely save his life"

To join the brotherhood. It was a really good offer. But I couldn't seem too eager. Something I've learned from the streets is to never play into someone else's hands. They'll push you around as soon as they know you depend on them. I said "and what if I don't?"

He said "then I'll leave, and won't mention what I've seen here. You'll live here, as you have, and will continue to live as a petty thief"

I said "fine then, I accept your offer" and the mentor said "remember, young apprentice assassin. Nothing is completely true, and therefore, everything is possible"

That was the last day I ever stole to stay alive. at least for a very long time.

 **[Jerusalem, about 1200** ]

I calmly walked on the roof of the bureau of Jerusalem. Unfortunately, no assassin beneath the rank of senior had the right to enter the bureau the normal way, as in the doors. The rest of us had to use the aerial approach: Do a leap of faith. mostly a symbolic gesture, not to mention the it was a type of training. I, a journeyman, was not an exception.

I ran to the board, dived, and landed in a stack of hay. Stepped out, and went towards the _rafiq_ of the bureau, a tall man named _hesam._ The _rafiq_ said " _Ahlan va sahlan ya akhi_ " I nodded, and replied " _alaykum al-salam ya rafiq_ , I have returned" hesam asked "have you completed your investigation?" I nodded, he said "tell me what you found"

I said automatically, "he is, as far as I've seen, a Templar. I've seen the ring on his person, and in his house. But that is not the reason he is sentenced to death. He is a mercenary. The way he finds the goods are mostly banditry. He raids the Christian and Muslim caravans to and off Jerusalem. He never leaves survivors, and ignites the flames of hostility between the two factions by this. For that alone, he is not only a bandit, but also a threat to the safety of the land. Therefore he deserves to die"

The older man nodded, "indeed. And what do you propose as the method of assassination?"

I replied "a public execution can be performed. A blade in the crowd. But what I suggest is a smarter approach, if a little subtle"

The master assassin raised an eyebrow "go on"

"we spread rumors about a caravan coming to jerusalem. Once we have made sure one of his men knows, we send a party of master assassins as 'protection' for the caravan, and when he attepts to raid, the brotherhood eliminates him. once and for all"

The rafiq nodded, "that seems an adequate plan. If a bit risky. At worst we'll have to perform the said public execution, If he doesn't take the bait. You've done well, _ibn-al-zalal_ " and dismissed me. I went to talk with the poisons instructor. The most important skill a journeyman learns are poison making. And of course, the first steps of choosing his own style of fighting.

 **[castle of Masyaf, 1203]**

I growled at my bastard of an opponent. James Cunningham. One of the three other seniors in my age. Cunningham was a bit of a rebel. He had every teaching of a senior assassin, knew them by heart even, yet he refused to use the stealth that we all preferred.

His favorite method of assassination was brutal execution. Being called ' _ghul al-abyz_ ' for that. Due to the same brutality.

He was also extremely arrogant, coming from a noble house of England, and joining the assassins by _climbing_ _up to the castle by himself_.

Unfortunately he also had the skill to back his arrogance up. He as more skillful than me in the use of long blade, blunt weapons, and lances. And spars are always with long blades.

I raised my staff, and looked at him as he was twirling his staff in one hand with practiced ease.

The instructor called "BEGIN!"

The brash assassin grinned and with a ferocious snarl he attacked me. I swinged my blade and blocked his attack. he was stronger than me, and the attack, although blocked, made me stagger for a second. That mere second was more than enough for him. he jumped back, swiped my feet off the ground and held his staff at my throat.

with a face full of delight he said "do you yield?" even though his tone said "please don't"

I snarled, but nodded, the instructor called "James is the Victor. The two of you can take your leave. Wait at the library for your fellow brothers.

i knew better than to be angry at him. our spars had been this short ever since i remember. all i could blame was my lack of proficiency.

nevermind that while not on a spar ring, or in a fight, the two of us were mostly best of friends.

The two of us left for the library

I had, after nine painfully hard years of training, become a senior assassin. As I still had no given name, most knew me as 'zalal al-abyz'

I wasn't really from masyaf. Almost every child of masyaf is either related to an assassin, or is an assassin by the right of birth. No, I was a traveler. I had, to escape the greatest nightmare of my life, sneaked to a caravan that travelled from Acre to Masyaf, reaching there and becoming ' _al-saregh_ ' at the age of eleven.

When the other two joined us, we were waiting by the library of the Master. Ubayd, another one of our age, a master of espionage, though not that good with a blade or bow, exhaled and said "shall we go inside, then?"

The fourth assassin of our age, the silent observer (as most called him) nodded. Ubayd politely knocked twice. We waited for a few seconds, then a voice boomed "Enter"

And enter we did. The normally bright room of master Altair was dark. The windows were closed and covered. The great balcony that lead to the rest of the castle was nowhere to be seen

The only sources of light were the five candles in the middle of the room. Five candles making a circle enough to hold a man to stand in.

On the far end of the room, Altair Ibn-Al-Ahd and four other assassin masters stood. Altair called "Zalal Al-Abyz, step forward."

I stepped in the circle, 'Al-Muallim' said "on this day, an acolyte falls, so that a master shall rise from his ashes. This man has tested the hardships of training, and today, he shall reap what he as sowed."

He said "Zalal Al-Abyz, do you swear to uphold our tenets while you breath?"

I replied "I swear it. I swear to never turn my back on what makes us differ from what most see us"

"then recite them once more, so that you never fail to uphold them"

I recited I three ground rules of the brotherhood. "Stay your blade from the flesh of innocent. Be a blade in the crowd, and never compromise the brotherhood"

Al-muallim nodded, "indeed, step forward and don your new skin"

I simply took off my robes of senior assassin, and accepted the new robes.

The boots with two daggers hidden beneath them. The tunic and pants to hold the body. The white robe, with a color of blood red coating the insides of it. two satchels to hold the small bottles of poison, a belt with two scabbards on the backside, with space to space darts. A poach to hold throwing knives and a spare dagger. A white hood shaped like the beak of an eagle.

I donned the magnificent robes of master assassin, and then placed my two short swords in the scabbards.

Then I donned the brown leather gloves, and the two wrist plates that come with them

Al-Muallim said "tell me our maxim" I said "La Shay'a waqi'un motlagh, bale kollon momkena. nothing is completely true, therefore everything is possible. Nothing is true, everything is permitted"

The five master assassins recited "nothing is true, everything is permitted. Everything is permitted, nothing is true"

He granted me a pair of blades, "the hidden blades. The utmost signature of the Hashashin, and the seal for a master assassin. It is time for you to join us. Unleash your blades"

U put the blades in my wrist plates, with a little practice, I performed a hand movement I'd seen other master assassins use before. With a flickr of my wrist, the mechanism orked and a pair of blades made of steel left my sleeve. Each blade grazed one of my middle fingers, and white it didn't cut off the finger (as I'd been told it would do before the times of Altair), it bloody hurt. I winces and then, with another flickr of my wrist, I returned the blades back to my sleeves.

Three more tries, and I finally got the hang of it. master altair said "follow the one who vouched for you for your final test of faith then, young brother."

One of the white robed assassins snapped into attention at once, the. He opened the doors to the balcony, and jumped over it, landing on the roof of another part of the castle, one considerably lower than the tower of Altair. When he was far enough, I started free running. We started at the highest point in the castle, and the diving point was on the exact other side, on the lowest level. To run the gauntlet one had o circle the castle twice.

I ran, jumping over the occasional obstacles. Finally, the assassin (and me on his tail) reached the diving point. Without stopping for even a moment, he swan dived down, and into the abyss below.

While I was skeptical of the safety of such practice, this was more of a leap of faith. To prove your faith that your brothers won't compromise you as long as you know what you are doing (I.E jumping in the stack, not the ground near it). I, as well as him, dived down.

Soon enough I could make out the highlights of the City of Masyaf, and soon enough, I fell head first into a strategically placed stack of hay.

My final test was complete.

I was a master assassin.

 **A.N**

 **Hello. This is my first attempt at an Assassin's creed fan fiction, please review, and be critical (though not harsh, if you can.)**

 **The non-modern-English words needing translation (on this chapter only Arabic)**

 **1)** _ **Al-Saregh**_ **: 'the thief'**

 **2)** _ **Hadd**_ **: 'limit', also the punishment Islam decrees for certain crimes (such as adultery, drinking wine, thievery, murder, …)**

 **3)** _ **asef**_ **: 'Sorry'**

 **4)** _ **isma'il**_ **: the Arabic form of "Ishmael"**

 **5)** _ **Altair ibn-al-ahd**_ **: (a different spelling is used in the game) if you don't know this guy when reading stories from this fandom, there's something wrong with you. the name literally means "the bird who is son of one"**

 **6)** _ **Al-muallim**_ **: 'the teacher', this expression is used as the Arabic (and Levantine) form of the rank 'mentor'**

 **7)** _ **rafiq**_ **: 'friend', used in the first game of the franchise as the rank of the leader of each of the assassin bureaus.**

 **8)** _ **hesam:**_ _ **a type of sword, also a name**_

 **9)** _ **ahlan va sahlan ya akhi**_ **: something along the lines of "I greet you, my brother"**

 **10)** _ **alaykum al-salam, ya rafiq:**_ **"hello to you, friend" or "hello to you,** _ **rafiq**_ **" (considering the meaning of** _ **rafiq**_ **in the game)**

 **11)** _ **ibn-al-zalal:**_ **'son of the shadows'**

 **12)** _ **Ghul al-abyz:**_ **the white giant, or the white demon**

 **13)** _ **zalal al-abyz:**_ **the white shadows, or the white shades.**

 **14)** _ **ubayd:**_ **Persian name, originating from the word 'abd', meaning 'slave'.**

 **15)** **La Shay'a waqi'un motlagh, bale kollon momkena: the basic maxim of the assassins brotherhood, wrongly translated to "nothing is true, everything is permitted"**

 **note: the actual translation of this sentence is "nothing is completely true, therefore everything is possible"**

 **of course, this is not the end for our currently non-named assassin (and I am looking for a suitable english name for the guy. In case he travels to other places (not an Arabic name, I already have thought of that)**

 **thank you for reading this (in case you actually read this, that is)**

 **until next chapter (or maybe a next chapter for another one of my stories, heaven knows I have been lazy for a** _ **looooong**_ **time), this is davoid, signing off.**


	2. Chapter 2: Detective Work (p1)

Nothing is true, everything is permitted

Chapter 2: Detective work

 **[Acre, around 1203 AD]**

I ran on the rooftops, closing on the bureau of Acre. This was my first assassination mission. Supposedly I was to go to Acre and complete a mission and return. Most master assassins were supposed to stay in the bureaus, help train recruits with lower ranks and complete lower level assassination missions after the apprentices and journeymen did the espionage. Master assassins remained in the bureaus in a normal situation, but the situation in Iran, and the hostility of the qaznavid sultan towards the assassin's guild in Iran had changed things. We returned to Masyaf after every mission, to protect the city or help them evacuate, if Altair demanded it.

I swan dived down the board rose from the haystack. After cleaning myself off the strays of hay, I walked to the rafiq, an old master of long swords named _Jamaal_. He greeted me " _as-Salamo Alaykum ya Zalal-Al-Abyz_ , there is a mission waiting for you."

I grunted, "What is my mission? Is he a Templar?"

He said "your target is not a Templar, and she's most definitely not a 'he'. She's the matron of the Orphanage of Acre, and old woman named Grelod, wrongly nicknamed 'the kind'"

The name brought back memories. Memories I'd tried my best to bury deep down and never think of again. The sound of a whiplash. Cries of children getting punished for misbehaving. Whimpers of an old friend, trapped inside the basement of the building for days. An old woman dropping the dead body of a teenage girl in the well.

I said in a strained voice, "that woman is _not_ kind"

The rafiq snorted "indeed. If anything, she's the definition of its opposite. Now the problem is, approximately three weeks ago, twenty of the orphans, none older than eighteen and none younger that fourteen went missing. One of the workers, a Christian by the name of 'Constance Michelle' reported that to one of the guards. Three different novices have over-heard that conversation. That got our attention. Espionage has revealed that she abuses the children, namely with cruel punishments. Furthermore, while never on this scale, the reported case is not the first time orphans have went missing. Every three weeks or so, small groups of teens of the aforementioned age go missing. What's more is that her cruelty is _not_ against the laws of Acre. Therefore the city guards do not attempt arrest."

I raised an eyebrow "you mean that's _not_ illegal?" he nodded "it is not. But the laws of man doesn't hold us back. _Everything is permitted_. "

I said "what is my mission?" he said "kill her, obviously. And if possible, find anything you can about the missing children, most importantly the last batch of them."

After restocking on my knives and picks, I took off to have an investigation of my own.

The path to the orphanage was the same as it was fourteen years ago. Same air of depression, same depressed children walking back to the building in despair, same guards looking at the children with sympathy. The Only thing that had changed were the names and faces.

I always wondered why the assassins had _never_ investigated on their own, but that was not my concern now.

As I closed to the large mansion, I called upon my eagle senses. The place I was looking for was the room on the top. Fortunately, the orphanage didn't have any guards, but people were prone to report if they saw a man in white robes, armed with two short swords, walk inside, go up to the highest floor of an _orphanage_ , and return with (presumably, If I could actually retrieve anything) a stack of papers in his arms.

I took off to the roofs and moved around on the nearby buildings until I was near the backdoor.

The room I had to enter had an open window.

Jackpot!

I jumped from the roof and gripped a piece of brick set out of the walls tightly. Then I began climbing the mansion. In a mere ten minutes, I was near the window I had targeted. I called upon my eagle senses once again and I saw no one inside, or planning to go inside in the next few minutes.

I jumped inside the room, cleared off the dust on myself, straightened my robes, and started looking for evidence.

It took me half an hour to find anything. Grelod was way too neat for my taste). In her personal library was Grelod's journal and a letter. Too neat to be sent to someone _out_ of the holy kingdom.

I opened the letter.

' _Master,_

 _The latest batch includes three with the merchandise. Training them to see the truth will be more that necessary._

 _Awaiting your response_

 _G'_

But _who_ was this master? Why was this pattern of speech so familiar to me?

I picked the letter and put it in my pouch, then I opened the latest volume of her journal, and skimmed through her thoughts:

 _5_ _th_ _of January: finally found the merchandise with the vision. Noticing me right before I planned to smack him cannot be a coincidence. Not after three times in a row._

 _This may need professional guidance. –G_

 _7_ _th_ _of January: talked with the master today. I had to proxy through_ three _people to reach him._

 _He told me to send the three with the vision to him. Time for some children to go missing, -G_

 _10_ _th_ _of January: the latest batch was finally shipped to the temple in Britton. May they be trained to see the truth as we do, and may they be good soldiers for our cause? –G_

 _12_ _th_ _of January: the foolish woman who 'helps' with the business has started to notice things. He might become and obstacle soon –G_

 _13_ _th_ _of January: the sheep are starting to notice things. Sending that big a batch might've been a mistake_

 _._

 _Talked to one of the proxies. I am not to attempt any communication for three weeks, this is going to be hard. –G'_

So, that was it. She'd sent the children to a temple in Britton, to be trained for some cause Grelod was part of. But _what_ temple, and _what_ cause? Also, what was that 'vision' she spoke of?

As Grelod had said, this might need professional guidance.

I returned to the bureau, and handed Jamaal my findings. "She said it in her journal and that letter to her 'master' that the children were shipped to some temple in Britton"

The rafiq touched his beard. "This is strange. We'll try to decipher those letters. Until then, you can hold this mission. Tail her and try to find more about this 'master'. Report to me once you've found enough"

I nodded, "I will do. Safety and peace"

He nodded, "safety and peace"

 **[Acre, Around 1203]**

The next day, I stook out for Grelod. The old hag walked out of the door of the orphanage about two hours before _duhr_. She walked to the library of Acre, and entered it. I couldn't afford being seen, so I circled the library and climbed the wall. It was pure luck that the woman was sitting near a window, or I might've failed.

She sat it a chair near the window and picked a book, reading it.

A man in noble cloths entered the library, sat down near her and said "Allah be merciful, these Heathens are too close to the holy city" Grelod replied "All people are same to Allah, praise be him"

That seemed to be some sort of a pass code. The man said "hail sister. The delivery was a success. The letter from the master of Britton's temple informs us the next batch should be delivered in three months." Grelod sighed "there seems to be a problem, brother. The sheep have seemed to notice. "

The man said "that will be a problem. I'll seek guidance from the grand master." Grelod sighed again, "Do so. We'll talk in the same place, same time, next week." The man said "may the father of understanding guide us"

 _That sentence!_ The man, _and_ Grelod were both Templars!

I felt the man leave. I had to tail the man, her 'brother', to see if I could find anything else.

I climbed the building and waited on the roof. The man left the library, and I crouched and slowly followed him.

Half an hour later, the man met a town guard, who said "is everything in order?" he replied "I hope it _will_ be"

The guard chuckled, and the man continued "good. You need to give the following words back to the grand master. 'there seems to be a problem in the shipping from the selling party' I'll be here an hour before _Duhr_ tomorrow."

The guard cursed "darn. He won't be happy. I'll relay the message. Peace be upon you, brother" the other man nodded "you as well, brother. You as well"

 _Damn. A new target_

I waited for about an hour. Sum was finally at its height. The _mo'adden_ started saying the _addan:_ "allahu Akbar allahu Akbar. Ashhadu anna la ilaha illa-llah"

As most people began walking to the mosque, to say their _duhr_ prayers, the guard stood there for a few minutes, and when the streets were empty and the mosque full, he started walking to the Christian district.

I couldn't possibly fail. I prowled after him, tailing him like my namesake. The guard began shaking and sweating in anxiousness as he got closer to his destination.

I looked around and saw it. A man in church robes, probably a bishop (though I had no idea) with an entourage of five priests and a guard with a spear.

The bishop himself looked normal. In fact he was as far from 'intimidating' as possible, but for some reason, the guard was _really_ scared of him.

Without losing sight of the guard, who was nervously walking to the priests, I ran to the end of the roof and grabbing the gutter, I slided down, silently walking to a group of people talking about the problems with the city.

"Yes, God willing, we will have a good _vali_ the next time _Khaliphe_ comes to town"

"BAH! The Abbasids are weak. The lord doesn't favor them. We need good kings, people like Salah-al-din"

"The warlord. But why not a christen kind?" "You'd think everyone would know there's not gonna be a Christian king anymore after the-"

I tuned out the rest of the conversation, the guard had finally reached the priest.

The bishop, in a frail voice, said "what is it my son? Something on your mind?"

The guard said "father. I have talked to our mutual friend with the producer. There seems to be a problem on our side of the contract."

The bishop stopped all signs of holiness, "darn. What has the old hag done now? No mater. I have to leave for a meeting it seems. Deliver the message to our friend. He should be in the old citadel for the meeting tonight. Grandmaster will want to see him."

The guard nodded, "I thank you, archbishop" "go in peace, son" and the guard left

There was nothing more to be found here, I returned to the Bureau. Half an hour later, I was inside. I greeted Jamaal and said "I tailed her. She told a young Christian noble to inform their master of her moiety. Tailing him and another man, I found out that the nobleman will probably meet with the master in the old citadel. What is my next move?"

The rafiq said "it's time Grelod met her maker. Return to me once you are done. If you aren't here by the _addan_ of _Asr_ , I'll have to send another assassin to attempt espionage on the meeting."

I said "Safety and peace" as I left.

By the time I'd reached the orphanage, the children were inside. I broke into the mansion from the same window. Madam Grelod was fast asleep in her bed, and I could hear the whimpers of two boys in solitary confinement (a box that children were trapped inside of, when they misbehaved) and the moans of a girl that had been whipped for not stealing enough.

My blood boiled. Grelod hadn't changed at all.

I roughly closed the window to wake up the hag. She woke up with a gasp and said "by all that is holy, what is it this ti-"until she saw me.

She picked a knife from under her pillow and jumped out of the bed. She was fast, I'll give her that, but even though she had some basic training, I was trained in wielding short swords for _ten_ years. I parried her attack and twisted her wrist. The knife fell from her hand.

I grabbed her throat and slammed her to the wall, then I growled " _why did you send all those kids to Britton_?"

Intimidation didn't work well on her. She snarled " _Britain!_ Britain you idiotic infidel! BRITAIN!"

I slammed her again, "I don't care! Answer the damn question!" and to give her more incentive, I unleashed one of my concealed blades and slowly moved my hand to her throat.

She groaned " _because_ they were gifted! There seems to be many with the gift of vision in the Levant. Why else do you think?"

Well. That explained much. I grabbed her necklace, and tore it. I looked at it. The Red Cross. My theory was confirmed, she _was_ a Templar.

I growled, and in seconds, I knew everything. I said in an animalistic growl "so _that's_ why you torment the poor orphans under your care. So when you send the 'important' ones to your overlords, they join your cause for the first act of kindness they ever see!"

She paled, finally recognizing the emblem of assassins on my chest and said "an assassin!" but that was it. I returned my hidden blade, then put my hand on her throat and released it once again.

As eternal darkness overtook her, I said "may you taste the scorn of all you've tormented" before putting the corpse on her bed and covering the bleeding scar with her scarf.

I jumped quickly out of the window and returned to the bureau. All that remained was the meeting.

 **A.N:**

 **Un-English words' translation:**

 _ **Jamaal**_ **: "beauty" in Arabic**

 _ **As**_ - _ **Salamo Alaykum ya Zalal-Al-Abyz:**_ **I greet you, White Shades (zalal-al-Abyz is a name)**

 _ **Duhr**_ **: "noon" in Arabic**

 _ **Muadden**_ : **the man that says the** _ **addan**_ **in the times of prayer. Part of the Muslim tradition (most Sunni people call him** _ **Bilal**_ **, in honor of the first** _ **muadden**_ **, Bilal of Habesha (Ethiopia) who was one of the companions of Muhammad, the prophet of Muslims)**

 _ **Addan:**_ **a sort of summoning for prayer in Islam**

 _ **The Arabic sentence right there after**_ **addan** _ **:**_ **the first verses of the addan, which translates into "God is great, God is great. I hereby swear there to be no other god but God" (Allah is the name of God for Muslims)**

 _ **Vali:**_ **'heir' in Arabic, kind of the title bestowed upon the governor of a city in Islamic states (umavid and Abbasid dynasties)**

 _ **Khaliphe:**_ _**another word for 'heir'. This one literally means "the god's heir on earth", a title of the Islamic kings (once again for the umavid and Abbasid dynasties)**_

 _ **Asr:**_ **'evening' in Arabic**

 **So there it is.** **The first real chapter of this story.**

 **What do you think? Is the plot cliché? Can you guess why they need the children with the vision? Can you guess** _ **what**_ **the vision is?**

 **The last question I will answer right away. The vision is the Templar name for eagle vision. (apparently, those with that vision are descendants of half-breeds (children of humans and 'those who came before' and since AC lore actually believes in the bible story (Adam and eve)) considering Levant (the entire location, not just a city) is probably the place Eden is supposed to be, there is a high possibility of people with that gift to be living there.**

 **So, something unrelated to NiT, EiP. I recently played AC rogue (don't judge me, my PC was pretty much non-existent before), and that made me think about a new story.**

 **(Here's the plot)**

 **[Spoiler alert for the entire Kenway saga of AC games]**

 **Time for a history lesson: in the golden age of Piracy, Edward Kenway, a pirate, joined the assassin's guild of Caribbean, and after killing the sage, located to London, and met a man named 'Reginald Birch'.**

 **Reginald Birch, the grandmaster of the Templars, killed him and took his son, Haytham. Haytham joined the Templars, and rose in the ranks, and travelled to the Colonial America (the new world) to start the colonial temple. There, he recruited five people, a rogue assassin named Shay Patrick Cormac, the Templars killed all of the Colonial Assassins but one, Achilles Davenport.**

 **Years later, Haytham Son, dubbed Connor by most, joined the Assassins after the Templars burned his village down, and killed all of the Templar leaders in the colonies. He also helped in the revolution (particularly in three battles).**

 **[Spoiler part over]**

 **What shocked me was that Connor killed** _ **every single Templar**_ **, but one. The rogue. Shay Patrick Cormac. I mean, the guy has more blood in his hands than the entire brother hood ever since Ezio.**

 **Now the** _ **real-world**_ **reason is obvious, Rogue came after ACIII and ACIV (black flag), and ubisoft is not capable of time travel yet.**

 **But what surprises me is that there are near to** _ **no**_ **stories about someone taking revenge on shay.**

 **So, I'm thinking of a new story, probably uploaded after the tenth chapter of NiT: EiP is drafted (and I hope, published). Who do you think the protagonist should be? (Note that the protagonist is probably gonna kill people, and aside from 'we're assassins they Templars so there' he/she needs a** _ **reason**_ **to do so)**

 **Don't forget to review**

 **Until next time, Davoid signing off**


	3. Chapter 3: Detective Work (p2)

Nothing is true, everything is permitted

Chapter three: Detective work (p2)

 **[Acre, Around 1203AD** ]

I returned to the bureau, panting heavily. I was still early, I had about three hours to stall before _asr_.

I walked to Jamaal, "Grelod is dead. I also found out quite a lot of new information before her death"

The rafiq raised an eyebrow, "well?" I said "the entire 'delivery' is a Templar scheme. Grelod sends the children that have something called 'vision' to a temple in Britton. There the Templars brainwash the orphans with their good deeds, and gain loyal soldiers"

He cursed " _La'nat Allahu Alayhum!_ This is an important discovery! _Al-Muallim_ needs to be informed of this scheme. Go. Infiltrate their meeting. Return as soon as it is over!"

And I was off.

As the _addan of asr_ was told by the _muaddin_ , I ran to the citadel of Acre.

The nobleman I'd seen before was walking towards it. Using my senses I understood his destination was a room guarded by two Guards.

By my estimation the meeting would probably begin in half an hour. Maybe less.

I ran on the rooftops, the roof of the citadel was patrolled by five guards in crusader armors. I smirked as I finalized my plan.

Prowling in the shadows, I sneaked behind the guard farthest from the rest. Then I whistled under my breath. Loud enough for him and only him to hear. The guard got curious and walked to my location, the only place in the roof that none of the guards checked in their patrols.

When he was inside, I quickly broke his neck and laid him down. I took off his armor and changed into the armor of the crusader guard.

Then, as similar to them as I could, I stepped out of the hiding place, calmly walked towards the door and walked to the guards of the meeting room.

Fortunately, none of the other guards in my way found me suspicious. The fact that the helmet hid my face probably helped with that.

I entered the room and walked to one of the guards: "Change of Shift. You're wanted on the roof"

The guard grunted "by whose authority?"

I grinned under the full-faced helmet. Jackpot! "The captain of the guards, of course. You want to question his orders?"

The guard groaned "fine, I'll go!" and I nodded as I took his place.

As soon as he left, the other guard said "god, that idiot would probably have problem breathing if it was voluntarily. "

The voice was somewhat familiar. I asked "why?" and he replied "because, _zalal al-abyz_ , there is no 'captain of the guards' in a hospitalier citadel"

That voice…that speech pattern…he was an assassin, and someone I knew. I said in shock " _Cunningham?_ "

He said "The one and only!" I growled "what the hell are you doing here?"

He replied in his normal snide voice "I've infiltrated this citadel for a week. There was this rumor of Templar activity here. I had to check it out" I said "not a rumor. There's gonna be a meeting here in about-"I heard the footsteps, and I whispered "silent. They're here!"

We straightened our armors and waited for the meeting.

The nobleman, the bishop and a man in the white and red armor of a Templar entered the room. He was the 'grandmaster', probably.

He said to the bishop "what is this then? Why have you called for a meeting?"

The bishop said "there seems to be a problem with our shipping route. The locals are starting to get suspicious." The master replied "so pause for a few months. Why's this _important_?"

The nobleman said "Because the route is ruined." The two said "WHAT?" he replied "Grelod is dead"

The grandmaster swore "you two were supposed to ensure her safety!" the bishop stuttered "but sir, we didn't-"the master yelled "ENOUGH!"

And looking at the noble, he asked "who's the killer?" he replied "assassins. Found the scar of their cursed blade on her throat"

The master swore "darn this all. What of the next matron?" "We know not, master. She isn't aware of Grelod's Ties to our cause, and she needs to be trained, should she accept"

The master looked at the bishop pointedly "septimus! You've failed us!"

The bishop, now known as septimus, lost all colors on his face. He stuttered "Grand master, I-""Your pathetic 'protection' didn't even _know_ they failed! Your failure has compromised the temple for one last time!

"Master I beg of you-"but the grand master grew his sword, a golden long sword with strange carvings on it, and said "may the father of understanding guide you for one last journey!" and ran through him with his sword

The bishop gasped and began glowing as he screamed in pain. The grand master pulled his sword out, and the sword let a great shockwave and spark that threw the bishop across the room. The poor man's body began burning and he began screaming again.

The noble looked away in disgust, the master sighed at the sight of the corpse and said "he was a good man, with true potential. But he has a habit of always failing. Well, not anymore" he looked at the nobleman "Guy, remember, the only reason you aren't in his place is that you are still necessary to our cause. You have a new mission"

The nobleman, not daring complain, said "what is it that you wish of me, master?" "Take this sword. Take it to the temple in Britain. You'll get your orders from there, from the grandmaster of the London temple." "I will do as you command"

The Templar grandmaster sighed once more, "Go with haste. Our entire order is in danger."

The Templar accepted the sword and walked out of the room. The Grandmaster glanced at the Bishop and sighed, "if only it wasn't necessary…" and left.

Once the room was clear, James sighed "Darn. That sword would've been _such_ a great weapon. Well, I seem to have the evidence I need. You've done _your_ mission as well. Let us leave then"

After getting rid of the crusader armors in a nearby dump, we returned to the bureau of Acre. Jamaal greeted us, "you've returned together, why?" I said "our missions collided. The nobleman is to travel to Britton" he said "do you know him?"

James Cunningham said "I do. He's Guy Lisbon of Yorkshire. He used to squire under my father back in the day. He's a leading knight of the house now" I continued "and apparently, he's a Templar as well"

Cunningham nodded sagely, "yeah. That too"

Jamaal said "The mission is complete then. Anything else you'd like to mention?"

I said "yes. There's this sword. When the Grandmaster killed the Archbishop, his sword threw his enemy across the room, shocked him and burned him. Lisbon is taking that to Britton with him."

The rafiq hmmed and said "this might become a problem later on. Rest now. You two are to travel back to Masyaf at the dawn of tomorrow. Altair is going to travel to the holy lands soon, you'd better reach him before that"

 **[Masyaf, Around 1203]**

The two of us were in Masyaf three days later. And lucky we were, for Altair was to begin his pilgrimage the next day.

As we entered the castle on horseback, Cunningham said "just go. Inform Altair, I'll join you after I bring the horses to the stable!"

I jumped off my horse and ran to al-muallim's study, where Altair was getting ready for his pilgrimage.

I called "I ask for an audience, Al-Muallim!" he said "what is it, brother?"

I said "I return from Jamaal, Rafiq of Acre's Bureau. There is a report he wants to give" and I handed him Jamaal's letter.

He read it, and in a monotone all of us train in as an apprentice said "yes. This seems to be suspicious. It should be investigated. The reasons for the abductions are not clear, neither is that sword you've mentioned"

James, who had joined us said "Then what are our orders?"

Altair said, "Well. You need to, as my comment suggests, investigate. The two of you will travel to Britain"

I said "but sir. Are two assassins truly enough for such an investigation?"

He stroked his beard "no. it is not. You are right. Return to your quarters and rest. I'll stay a day longer. Return to me tomorrow, I'll have an answer by then"

The next day, at noon, when several of the devout Muslims of Masyaf went for _'salaat_ ' I went to al-muallim's study. When I entered the library, Altair was sitting behind his desk, a glowing golden sphere in his hand and a paper in the other. He muttered "fascinating. All it takes is the right mixture of –"I politely cleared my throat.

The assassin mentor raised his head and smiled "you're here. We'll have to wait for your brother to join us"

I said "forgive me, master, for asking, but _what_ is that?" al-muallim chuckled "that, my friend, is an apple of Eden. An artefact of power" I recognized the artifact by name. the artefact wielded by the previous al-muallim, Rashid al-din Sinan, who used it to enslave most of the order, until a combined might of Altair and the rafiqs and da'is of the time stopped him.

I said "I can say the sword Lisbon is taking to Britton had carving like the one on that. It was the same color too"

He said "another piece of Eden? "He hmmed. That was when James bolted into the room, panting and breathing heavily. He straightened himself and bowed slightly, "Apologies, Al-Muallim. It seems I lost track of time as I was training"

The mentor waved it off, "no need. It seems the severity of your information has increased" he rose, "the two of you will have to move to Britain. Locate the sword and the Templars, then retrieve it"

James said "you said 'move'. Does that mean we won't return?"

"Excellent deduction. You will have to found the guild there. Recruit people to our cause. Make some influence in their politics"

The two of us looked at him. And James began laughing.

Until he realized al-muallim was serious.

I said "but mentor. You surely cannot expect two assassins with a year of experience to start a guild that far from the holy kingdom!"

He said "on a normal situation, I wouldn't. It would take, at the least, five seasoned master assassins to start a central den in a new country. Yet, the situation is direr than what you might believe. Britain is close to the main temple in France. It is possibly already in the claws of the Templars. The very fact that an artefact of Eden is on the way here, and that the fact that it is known that children with 'sight' are there, means the situation might already be out of control."

And before James could interrupt, he said "twelve years ago, I learned that Templars are _everywhere_. They control armies, scholars, merchants, and possibly even the religion. They had, and probably still have, a hold so strong that killing nine of the key members of their order, _including the acting grandmaster_ , stopped them for a mere week" he chuckled "its past time we countered that. A new guild in Britton will be but the beginning."

James said "I will go as you command, master" I said "just give us the word"

The mentor chuckled, "I am not your master. Merely your teacher. My word, though your actions are flattering, is not law. But I'll give you a few suggestions. The British order of assassins cannot be as public as we are. The age of _hassan-i-sabbah_ is over. We have to return to our routes. Work from the dark to serve the light. That means blending in. no castle on a hill shadowing the city. You'll have to be discreet. Take the weapons the locals use, and add them to your arsenal. Even your robes must be different as well."

Then he rose "pack all you need. And ask for a few extra sets of robes, blades and arsenal as well. You're leaving tomorrow. Be sure to report biweekly, or _at worse_ monthly. We'll have to send people to check on you if you don't. You'll receive your orders once you've established a central den and have reported for the first time." He then dismissed us, "Begone now. You have a long journey ahead of you."

And we left. James chuckled "oh boy. We're leaving for _my_ hometown, to start our own assassin's guild. Is this a dream come true or what?" I grunted "we'll have to battle Templars on our own, James. It won't be a 'dream come true'" he laughed "we won't be alone. We'll recruit others. Our creed isn't dying with us there. We'll recruit some people, then ask master to send us master assassins. Instructors and all. But that's planning _waaaaay_ ahead. Let us pack now."

I returned to my room, packing for a long journey. All my weapon supplies, bottles of poison, extra pairs of swords, my master assassin robes, my medicine supplies, and all my bags of clothing. By the map I'd seen, we would have to travel through Byzantium, the Roman Empire and France, to reach the isles of Britton. The journey would take, at least, _two_ whole months to make. And we had to begin it with haste

 **[Masyaf, Around 1203]**

The next day, we packed and became the first Levant assassins to ever travel to the west. Getting out of city as many wished 'safety and peace' for us. Our carriage began its course to Byzantium. There, we'd blend into a group of Christian pilgrims returning to Rome. And there we'd change course to France.

A new frontier had been discovered, and _we_ were its pioneers.

 **A.N**

 **Un-English words that need translation:**

 _ **La'nat allahu Elayhum:**_ **'May God curse them' or 'May Allah Curse them!'**

 _ **Salaat**_ **: a kind of Islamic prayer (the one that is done five times a day, after each** _ **addan**_ **)**

 _ **Hassan-i-sabah**_ **: historically speaking, the first mentor of the Hashshashin (which is the basic idea behind the assassin's creed) the historical character is known to be responsible for many assassinations in the seljuqid era of Iran. (Something like a medieval age terrorist) it is known that unlike the game, the** _ **hashshashin**_ **of Hassan-i-sabah were pretty much public. (like Morag tong in Morrowind, if you catch my drift)**

 **End of the first arc of this story (and I hope, the shortest) our heroes have begun their journey to brave new world (funny how the 'olde world' would be pretty much a new world for an Asian)**

 **Hopefully, I can draft my next chapters in the next month or so, and update a whole arc once again.**

 **So, about this arc. Many of the elements were taken from a mission in TES: Skyrim. (Grelod the kind is the orphanage matron you have to kill in the first mission of the dark brotherhood)**

 **Next arc: the heroes travel to Britain. (Estimated chapters: about 2-3)**

 **Until next time,**

 **Davoid, signing off**


End file.
